


An Addict For Your Touch

by ForgottenChesire



Series: Kinktober 2018 [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Blindfolds, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Restraints, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 16:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16178825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: Bruce’s touch when it comes is wonderful. All encompassing. Hands massage his scalp, run down his side, they seem like they are everywhere at once. He chases after the fleeting hands, like an addict chases a high. There are bites placed on his neck and shoulders, causing his back to arch and eyes to clench closed in pleasure. Bruce is everywhere. A phantom in the created darkness. Kisses, fleeting, burning, perfect. Alfred isn’t ashamed to admit that he’s hard and aching in his now too tight pants.





	An Addict For Your Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Как наркотик](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16277105) by [Ampaseh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ampaseh/pseuds/Ampaseh)



> Day 3 Sensory Deprivation

“You trust me, don’t you Alfred?”

 

“With my life sir.”

 

Bruce smiles that beautiful smile that Alfred hasn’t seen in so long. That smile that disappeared when Martha and Thomas died. The young man, now sixteen, has Alfred on his knees, arms behind his back. It’s not a position that Alfred particularly enjoys being in. But he trusts Bruce. He trusts Bruce when his young Master blindfolds him, taking away his sight. Slowly callousing hands caress his face.

 

“I want to take this slow. First sight, then hearing.”

 

A kiss is pressed to his jaw. Then his shirt is unbuttoned, a kiss for each little pop. Alfred’s breath catches with each one. It’s been so long. In a small part of his mind, he knows that he shouldn’t be allowing this to happen. That Bruce is too young. That he is too old. But then Bruce takes one of his nipples into his mouth and that logical part of his brain shuts up quickly.

 

“Talk to me,” Bruce demands gently.

 

“What would you like to hear Master B?”

 

Hands cup his face, moving to cradle the back of his head.

 

“Anything. Just talk.”

 

And so Alfred talks. He talks about what he’s thinking, about cooking for dinner, about the weather. When the small talk topics run out, when he’s panting from the touches, the kisses, from feeling each thing Bruce is doing to him but not seeing it he moves to more personal things. Little anecdotes about the scars he has.

 

In the darkness that surrounds him, he craves the touch of his Master B. His Bruce. Then the touches stop. 

 

“Master Bruce?”

 

He strains his ears but Bruce moves too quietly for him to hear. It’s unnerving. The silence of the mansion. The chill that permeates the rug under his knees. They’ve fallen asleep and that is going to be a bitch when he moves again. Something is pressed into his hands. Firm. Like a pair of headphones.

 

“What’s this?” he asks despite the fact that he thinks he knows. What with how Bruce has him trussed up and what Bruce said before. Sight and sound. He wants to know, it’s nice to know, to have it set in stone.

 

“Noise canceling headphones. They work very well. You remember what you need to say for me to stop, right?”

 

“Course I do.”

 

“Say it for me?” Bruce asks sweetly and yet firmly.

 

“Owls.”

 

Alfred is rewarded with a kiss. Awkward, with his head pulled back. It leaves them both breathless. Even if it makes his neck ache.

 

“And you’ll use it if I do anything that you don’t like?”

 

The urge to kiss Bruce is there, not the answer the young Master wants but honestly, when has he not voiced his displeasure? They have had spats over how vocal he is despite being a butler.

 

“The very moment,” Alfred affirms, “I trust you.”

 

Alfred had said the same thing the first time they did this. Well maybe not  _ this _ the blindfold is new, restraints not so much. They reassure each other.  The sound of Bruce laughing, obviously knowing what Alfred is thinking, is cut off as the headphones are placed onto his ears.

 

His body tenses. He doesn’t mean to. But the discomfort of having neither sight nor sound available to him is… it’s as massive as the mansion itself. His ears fight to hear anything but not a sound comes through. He trusts Bruce. That thought is a mantra, a comfort as he inhales deeply, body relaxing on the exhale.

 

Bruce’s touch when it comes is wonderful. All encompassing. Hands massage his scalp, run down his side, they seem like they are everywhere at once. He chases after the fleeting hands, like an addict chases a high. There are bites placed on his neck and shoulders, causing his back to arch and eyes to clench closed in pleasure. Bruce is everywhere. A phantom in the created darkness. Kisses, fleeting, burning, perfect. Alfred isn’t ashamed to admit that he’s hard and aching in his now too tight pants.

 

Bruce’s lips are pressed against his skin. He can feel them moving, mouthing words. God does he wish he knew what his boy was saying. One of those perfect hand trails down, down, down. And oh how he must make a picture of debauchery. Face flushed, he can feel the heat, and mouth most likely spewing dirty words. He rocks into the hand that is stroking him. Throat moving in ways that are likely producing keens or whines. He is so close. So close. Both to the edge and to that floating feeling he only reached once with Reggie long ago.

 

He wants to reach it now. With Bruce. To have that boneless, vulnerable state with just Bruce to see. Craves it in the most unbecoming way imaginable. He doesn’t even have to climax, though it would be nice. Bruce noses his cheek, hand releasing his dick. It’s quite possible that he made a noise of discontent. In fact, he knows that he did because he had been enjoying what Bruce was doing. He’s urged to stand up which is bloody not good as it brings attention to the fact he’s been on his knees far too long and that he isn’t as young as he once was. His bones pop, cracking loudly. Fuck it hurts.

 

His wrists are untied and gently he’s lead to the bed. Slow even steps before he is pushed onto the waiting covers. They meld to his skin. Thank god they chose to do this in the master bedroom instead of one of the guest rooms like Bruce had suggested at first. Then mercy from above Bruce starts to massage his legs. At times the pressure is too firm, others too light. Inexperienced hands. But they feel so good. Helping relax muscles that had tightened. The massage moves from his legs to his arms. Bruce looms over him. A comforting weight and the smell of his boy’s cologne is strong in his nose. Too soon the massage ends, and pants are pulled down. The cold air makes him shiver.

 

Then Bruce is sucking on his thigh. Nipping and licking and sucking. All around his prick. Teasing him. The erection that had waned when he stood comes back full force. When he’s standing fully at attention Bruce swallows him down. Slowly he reaches out, trying to find Bruce. He wants to touch. He needs it. It takes a bit but soft hair tickles his fingertips and he sinks his fingers into it. Like with the massage Bruce is clumsy, inexperienced but determined. It doesn’t take long for Alfred to reach his peak, tugging on Bruce’s hair to avoid coming in his mouth. The cheeky bugger refuses to come up though, steadily sucking through it all. Bruce ruts against him a few times and god Alfred wishes that he had the energy to help his young master find his release. After a bit, Bruce flops down onto him, little pants of air tickling his neck.

 

Bruce’s heat from where he’s resting on Alfred’s chest is the only thing he can focus on. Hands trail up his arms and can feel the headset move. It prepares him for the influx of noise.

 

“I love you.”

 

Alfred feels his heart flutter at the admission.

 

“I love you too Master B.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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